At her station, Ginny had her back to us as she cut a client’s hair, tossing over her shoulder, “We’ll be with you in a minute!”
“It’s just me,” I called out. “And Trip.”
Over at my station, there was a woman I’d met a couple of times in the past who had worked with us before when someone went on vacation. She was a nice lady who was a stay-at-home mom who took jobs here and there. Recognizing me, she waved and I waved back. In the seat in between my station and Ginny’s was Sean. I settled for holding up a hand, and he did the same right back. According to Ginny, he was mad I had taken three weeks off work. Like I could control how quickly I healed.
Ginny didn’t reply as she kept up what she was doing. By the time she finished blow drying her customer’s hair, I had led Trip into the break room and we’d taken seats at the table. I was calm again. She took one look at me and asked, “What happened?”
“Your cousin happened,” Trip snickered as he took a sip of Pepsi.
“What did Dallas do?” she asked, confused.
“Not Dallas,” Trip replied before I could.
Her features dropped into a blank mask. “Oh.Him.”
Cradling my hand on my thigh, I leaned back on the chair and watched my boss. “I should have asked why you always made faces every time his name was brought up. Now I know.”
“He said something stupid?”
How did she know? “Uh-huh.”
Ginny shook her head before making her way to the fridge and pulling out a glass bottle of water, taking a slow drink. “It’s what he does best. I don’t think there’s a woman he’s related to he hasn’t insulted at some point or another, even Miss Pearl. What he say?”
“Something about my brother,” I told her, not in the mood to replay what the hell had come out of his mouth exactly.
She winced. “He called me a slut when I was pregnant with number two because I wasn’t married. And maybe about six years ago, he said I was an old bitch.” Ginny’s smile was grim. “Good times.”
That asshole. “Now I definitely won’t feel bad about throwing Hawaiian Punch at his face.”
Ginny howled, settling her bottle of water on the counter, which made me smirk. “What happened? Where’s Dallas?”
“At the shop,” I told her.
“My best guess is that he’s telling Jackson to fuck right off,” was Trip’s input.
“He should,” Ginny scoffed, her gaze meeting Trip’s as they exchanged a look I didn’t understand.
“What was that about?” I asked.
She was trying to be innocent, but it wasn’t working. We’d known each other too long, witnessed each other want to kill people while plastering smiles on our faces. “What?”
“That face you made at each other. What is it?”
“Nothing—”
The chime of the front door opening had, by instinct, Gin and I both glancing at the television in the corners where images of the security camera were shown. On the screen, the body I would always recognize as Dallas’s appeared.
“He’s not here looking for me,” Gin commented.
Getting to my feet, I shook off the rest of my bad mood and made my way out of the break room toward the front, leaving the two cousins inside to go over whatever little secret they were harboring between each other. When Dallas’s eyes landed on me, I was torn with what to say or how to act. He tipped his head in the direction of the door behind him and I nodded, following him outside.
The door had barely closed when he said, with his attention aimed at the sidewalk, “Diana, I’m sorry.”
Sorry? I couldn’t help but poke him in the chest, right in the center of his pecs. “What do you have to be sorry about? You didn’t do anything.”
“Jack—”
I poked him again, waiting until his gaze was drawn from the ground and landed on me. Those brown and gold eyes looking ashamed and remorseful made me feel awful. “What he does is not your fault. I’m not mad or hurt by you.”
